On the Marc with Marc Jacobs

Good morning, Friday. I'm ready for the weekend et tu?

So New York Fashion Week came and went with many fashion watchers wondering just what the f it all meant. We all know by now that the relevance of Fashion Week has gone the way of the 8 track. But I've said it before and here it is again- I still believe. In the power of clothes and style and fashion to speak to where we are in culture. And to hopefully inspire and delight as well.

And that's where Marc Jacobs comes in. Marc is always the last show of Fashion Week and also the most anticipated. His show was a stripped down affair- no fancy sets, no real shenanigans, and an orchestra playing classical music in almost total blackness. There was a sobriety to all of it-a palpable moment in an upside down world and perfectly translated by Marc Jacobs. If you are a fashion follower, you well know Marc's star has been a bit unhinged since leaving Paris and focusing on his own line again. Many wondered if he could ever get back his original star power. And perhaps now that Fashion Week is in upheaval, maybe it was Marc's time to shine yet again. With the pressure off and the heat on to make some truly transcendent pieces.

I loved and lived for this show. I loved the volume. The show opened with an animal print cape. I was hooked from the moment I saw it. The plain ease of that simple sweater and skirt, sober alongside some of the more conceptually driven pieces. The sense that a woman could dress more minimally one day and more over the top the next .Look after look was exciting and innovative and very, very Marc- it was like watching a retrospective in one runway. I love that the big designers like Tom Ford and Michael Kors and of course Marc Jacobs went back and did some searching to find inspiration in who they are and what works best. Ford with his sexy tailored swagger and Michael Kors with his glam 70s vibe (Barry Manilow though? Ok then). And Marc has always been one to defy- I love that this is the collection he came up with after rereleasing his infamous grunge collection of the 90s. Because even though this was wholly unique, it still had some Marc J hallmarks- a little wild, a little restrained, and altogether feminine. The show closed with Christy Turlington, angel eternal in a feathered dress worthy of any red carpet anywhere. I'll be dreaming of those capes. And the simple silhouettes. And all the feathers. And everything in between. What a beautiful, beautiful tribute to fashion and women and the creative inspiration we still find living in the best city in the world. We may not know what the future of fashion looks like, and maybe Marc himself doesn't know. But I felt this show displayed a designer who knows himself very, very well. And I for one am glad he's still sharing his incredible talent with the world. 

Cause that's what's up this fashionable Friday in the 718. Yours, in style magic.XO

There's no place like home(work)

Good morning, Wednesday. Looks like the bad weather is out and the sunshine is in. Happy about that.

So lately my schedule has been a bit more free- not that I'm not working but it's a bit more flexible which is very much a gift from the gods. I've had the good fortune to be able to take a few lunches and dinners with some dear female friends. I'm not sure I could survive without female friendship ps- it's just the best thing. 

Anyway, something happens to women once we turn 40. I'm not saying it's the same for everyone, and I turned 40 a hot minute ago, so I barely remember it. But I have some friends that are either facing 40 or just past it- and the common thread for most of them is a complete reassessment of life. I've found myself in advertising most of my career so I'm primarily speaking about women who find themselves in the ad world too. And the verdict is in- and advertising is OUT.

Don't attack me, those of you who still love advertising. Many people are still in the game and enjoying great success. I will admit that advertising is full of fun, smart, interesting people. The office culture is cool. You can wear yoga pants to work if you want. There's always someone up for a cocktail or a conversation. But, man. That world wears on your soul. It's stressful. The hours are long. And at some point, particularly when you hit the 4-0ish mark, you look around and feel a bit like Rodney Dangerfield in "Back to School". And if you get that reference, you know exactly what I mean. And if you don't, well- that's part of the issue.

Everyone in advertising is getting younger while the rest of us get older. And some people are cool with that, and some aren't. I'm in the latter camp and not because I hate young people, but I've been questioning what I've wanted from my career for a very long time so working with people who are in their 20s is a constant reminder of my own stagnation. Long before I turned 40 this was going on ps. Although I enjoyed an inspiring, fun as hell career, I'm not sure I was remotely happy. In fact, I know I wasn't. And then I just got tired. Too tired. Primordially tired. And i knew it was time for a change.

PS- I'm still kind of working in advertising. I take projects from time to time with my favorite folks. But I've dedicated myself to full time writing- on behalf of brands mostly but not in ad agencies. And the reason this is so awesome is once I set that intention that writing was my full tilt future, it became my present. And i'm happy.

I used to ask myself a cliched question, to try and figure out what would make me happy when it comes to work. And that question was: Where would I want to go every day when it comes to being happy at work and what does that look like? I never, ever could figure out the answer to that, although I somehow knew it would include my "own" space. I thought for years that meant having my own business with my own office and phones ringing off the hook and lots of deal making and moving and shaking.

WRONG.

What it really meant was I didn't want to go anywhere. I wanted to stay right here at home. And write from home. And tell stories from home. I love working from my living room or bedroom or wherever I want, with my dog by my side and CNN on the TV. It's just where I'm happiest. And it took many lives and many years to get here. But I'm so glad I did. I guess I did the work, and now I can work from home.

My point is we seek and search and reach a point in life where we need things to fall into place. For some that happens at 25. For some it happens at 65. It doesn't matter when it happens but I do think for my friends turning 40, a lot of stuff comes up about where you want to spend your time. Because you start realizing that one minute doing something you don't want to do anymore is just too much. So even if you don't know what you want, don't worry. I know it will come to you like I did for me. And I didn't even have to leave the house to figure it out. Gratitude does not begin to describe it. Work hard. Stay home. Yes please.

Just wanted to share that little story with you, and I know that working from home is not everyone's dream, but I love it. If you are seeking something new, keep looking. And if you're happy and you know it, keep clapping.  Cause that's what's up this home is where the heart is kind of Wednesday in the borough of Brooklyn. Yours, in working from the sofa, from under the duvet, or just about anywhere. XO



Fashion's dead. Long live fashion.

Good morning, Tuesday.

So ya, Fashion Week. It's no big whoop and you know it and I know it. It's irrelevant, outdated, and nobody cares. Cathy Horyn said as much in this rather grim piece. But sometimes when nobody's watching the whispers of something big may just be happening. And in a world gone upside down, it's not surprising fashion feels the same way. I know there's more to the story- but I still believe. And I for one have not taken my eye off the ball. 

Because four collections made me feel the feels. And also made me remember what is so so good about American style, particularly New York City style. I'm wondering if designers are doing some soul searching of late to find out what they really want to say. I know I've found my groove after much mucking about and I for one am grateful. We all get lost in life, and perhaps fashion as we know it is in that place. With these collections, I think they went back to their roots with great success in terms of design. Even if nobody's looking. These are clothes meant to be worn and loved and worn again. I would be shocked if these collections didn't sell.

First, over at Phillip Lim, we have the most beautiful sophistication I've seen in some time on this side of the pond. I love the neutral palette and gasp- the endlessly wearable (albeit not affordable) clothes. After Gucci glam, there are these clothes. For those living actual lives and not living inside a peyote trip. I just love these clothes- cool, chic, understated, a bit sporty. And wholly American.

Over at the Row, my favorite twins hit another home run. I can't get enough of these clothes. They are sexy yet restrained, and ageless in their appeal. They let the wearer wear the clothes, and not vice versa. They truly are masterful designers. Wonderful collection as always. That leather coat and that slim black suit- Shazam. Giving me a whole lot of life right now.

But on the total opposite side of town is Anna Sui, whose collection made me feel a bit nostalgic for my early NY club days in the 90s. Sure these clothes feel more akin to a vintage store than the runway, but that's why I love them. They speak to the cool girl thing I always love about Sui's clothes- totally downtown and fun. Perfect for a night out. That second animal print number. Strong yes. Very strong.

And then, then. Drum roll.

Proenza Schouler's show had me at first slide. I am so in love with these two of late. I splurged on a couple of knit dresses this season and I absolutely love the way they make me feel. This collection was elegant and beautiful and very New York. In every way. Cool, sophisticated, ready for anything clothes- and those pants are so good. I'm madly, truly in love. And even if the shows don't matter, these clothes do. At least to me.

Cause that's what's up this passion for fashion kind of Tuesday in the 718. Yours, in getting back to basics and remembering what works. XO


(Re)thinking Pink

Good morning, Monday. Had a perfectly lovely weekend upstate and could have napped and drank wine and sat by the fire for a few more days, I'll tell you that. 

So last night I wasn't really planning on watching the Grammys because, meh. But wow I'm glad I did because it was ladies night and the feeling was oh so right. I loved the femalecentric show which opened with an appearance by MIchelle Obama and just kept going all night long with amazing performances by Diana Ross, Gaga, St. Vincent, the amazing Dolly Parton joined by tons of stars- my favorite being the "After the Gold Rush" (had no idea she wrote that) performance with Dolly, Miley CYrus, and Maren Morris. And I was completely blown the f away by Brandi Carlile's stripped down performance- an absolute powerhouse. I also loved H.E.R. and of course, the best Grammys host of all time, Alicia Keys. She is everything a celebrity should be and i absolutely love her beautiful, natural look and her incredible talent. Plus that green jumpsuit. Want. Oh and Janelle Monae. Oh, hey. So good. Love the Prince comparison. She's so talented and cool.

So in honor of so much girl power on stage last night, I thought I'd embrace my feminine side today and talk about my love for the color pink. Pink has come to mean so much more than it used to- when I was growing up it felt more girly girl/Molly Ringwald than a power color. But with women ascending more and more each day, pink is a symbol of how far we've come and how much further we can go. So it's a color that's top of mind for me, and I have always, always adored it but now particularly so. Here are some ways to bring some pink into your life- from home to clothes and back again.

I'm totally obsessed with this blush faux fur chair cover I got at a store in my neighborhood, Wanderlustre. I threw it over a lucite chair where I do my makeup and I just love it so much.

This candle is my absolute new favorite- it's sexy and weird and so delicious- narcissus and mysore wood combined for something special. And it looks so pretty in the home. I want stacks of them.

This Rachel Comey dress on sale had me at first glance- I saw someone wearing it this weekend and its just so lovely and kind of 90s  in the best of ways. I love how she does pink- rock it with everything from Vans to heels. The stylish woman who was wearing it this weekend had it on under a flannel shirt and with some aforementioned Vans and white tights- trust me, it was chic as f.

A pale pink satin mule? Definitely. Trimmed in sparkly jewels? Oh yes. These are completely divine. Still spendy even though on sale, but obsessed.

And with Valentine's Day in our sights, there's much talk of Galentine's Day- and the celebration of female friendship vs. Hallmark holiday cliches. How about giving your BFF one of these rose gold friendship bracelets from Catbird? So pretty.

Oh and keep the vibe going with a new favorite perfume of mine, Byredo's  Rose Noir, a lusty rose scent that is altogether amazing. And Diptyque's special collection of rose scented wonders is calling my name. 

I bought this scented oval for my closet and it's just delicious.

So as the week gets underway, think pink. It's a fun time to get a little girly, no? Cause that's what's up this rose tinted Monday in the 718. Yours, in colors. XO


It's Fashion Week, folks (and nobody cares)

Good morning, Thursday. If you're seeing a few extra leggy types roaming around the city this week, it's because of Fashion Week. It's barely a blip ps- go to Vogue.com's front page and there's barely a mention of it. As a lifelong dedicated follower, there's part of me that mourns the thrill being gone. And on Business of Fashion's homepage, there's a big article about how American fashion needs a big time rethink. Because it's no longer valid in its current state. Have a look, it's worth the read, as is this piece in unlikely fashion watcher Vox.  

But yesterday Tom Ford was showing back in New York and the show was so quietly beautiful and classic it made me remember what I love most about American style. The sense of the casual coupled with the strong. The sexy ease of it all. The coolness.

Was this collection a revelation when it comes to showing something new? Not in the least. But Tom, like many, are going back to what made them great in the first place- perhaps a bit of a yearning for what was but also the lack of ability to interpret something completely new in such anxiety producing times. I absolutely adored everything on this runway, and to me, these are clothes that will actually sell in stores. The tailoring, the color combinations, the quiet boldness. Did it take direct cues from his now iconic Gucci collections of the 90s? For certain. But those were some of my favorite clothes of all time. Unforgettable.

This fashion week may not make an impact as American fashion works to redefine its place in the industry, but this was a really beautiful collection that is a nice reminder of what makes Ford great in the first place. More please.

Cause that's what's up this still freaky for fashion kind of Thursday in the 718. Yours, in American style. I still care, ps. XO


Maven recommends: An all in one piece situation

Good morning, Tuesday. It's going to be just shy of 65 degrees today in New York. And though I should be enjoying it, it's making me feel weird. My body doesn't quite know what to do. Good thing it's back to winter this weekend. I'm not quite sure I'm ready for the heat.

So in a perfectly wardrobed world, I'd go between a caftan and a jumpsuit, all day every day. I am the biggest fan of one piece dressing that has ever lived. I love the power of putting on one piece and looking so put together. A friend of mine is turning 50 soon and is having a caftan only weekend. Needless to say, I've started packing in my mind. I can't wait.

But back to the jumpsuit. I was watching "Woodstock" the movie last night as one does and became fixated on Pete Townsend's jumpsuit during the Who's performance. The man is a bean so he looked ridiculously chic in an all white boiler suit- timeless really in a sea of hippie dippie. Which brings me to the fact that jumpsuits are truly reaching ubiquity in fashion. And I love them. And now that so many people are going sober, going out wearing one will be more fun. Lessening the need to pee has just made the jumpsuit way more accessible.

One style of jumpsuit that I love is the aforementioned boiler suit. According to my good pal Wikipedia, boilersuits are so called by men who maintained coal fired boilers, and the one piece suit did not allow soot to enter one's lower half.  Cut to now when women have adopted the one piece wonder for themselves. It's androgynous for sure but somehow sexy, particularly when paired with heels. Bonus points if you wear a pretty bra underneath. Or not. Do you.

One of the best selections around has to come from Topshop, the UK favorite for translated trends that won't break the bank. A small peruse of their site shows so many great options, my favorite being the zip up denim version pictured at the top of this post. In love. Truth be told- it helps to have a more boyish physique to rock this look- it's not easy for girls with boobs or hips or roundness of any kind but you can always size up a bit and get the fit right. PS- that black corduroy one pictured is on big time sale and it's so cool looking- would love it with high top sneakers from Golden Goose or even rolled up with low top Vans.

And now that reality is hitting, I'm not wearing a caftan or a jumpsuit today. Actually I lied. I'm wearing a jumpsuit right now. It's a one piece pajama jumper situation that I love to wear around the house. But since I'm out and about today, no dice on this look. 

What do you think of the zip up jumpsuit and will you get down like that? I'd say a strong yes.  It checks the boxes for a strong look that is strong, cool, and comfortable. Cause that's what's up this utilitarian Tuesday in the 718. Yours, in one piece wonders. XO

We made a new friend this weekend, and he's a bit of a hard ass

Good morning, Monday. The Super Bowl was not so super, now was it? The commercials were even worse. And let's not even discuss Adam Levine and his weird tank top. Awful, just awful.

So one of the joys about living in New York is that it's weird. In the best of ways. This city is full of eccentric people that provide a colorful approach to everyday life. That's one of the many reasons I love living here. It's just good weird. For me, living in Miami was bad weird. Or simply, not my flavor of weird. But New York? Yea, I get it. And I suppose my penchant for storytelling has a perfect outlet in a city full of so many stories. Here's one.

On Saturday, David and I decided to take the dog on a long walk through the neighborhood after a rather lazy morning at home. On our way out, we stopped to water my landlady's plants- we live in a brownstone owned by her family and she's on the garden/parlor floor. That's first floor for you non-Brooklyn kids. Anyway, she's been in Thailand for about a month and a half now with her recently college graduated son. Before she left, we promised to get her mail and water her plants, as good neighbors do. So Saturday we were in her apartment and the absolute weirdest thing happened. I'm standing there arranging some of her mail on the counter and tidying up a bit when I saw him. 

Moving across the hardwood floor was a turtle. Well, a tortoise upon closer inspection.

Now if you're not expecting to see an animal crawling across the floor, let alone a decent sized tortoise, you may feel like you're hallucinating. At least I did. And apparently I screamed to David "THERE'S A WALKING TURTLE IN HERE"! A walking turtle? I suppose in my shock I simply meant JesusChristheresaturtlewalkingacrosstheapartment but that's what came out. And then I ran out of the apartment. I suppose I got scared. I don't know why. But I did. Those legs and that hard shell and that extended neck freaked the f out of me. And of course, David was left to deal with it.

If you don't know our history or my husband's history with animals, it's epic. I'll never forget him freeing a pigeon from a frozen yogurt shop on South Beach, or accidentally murdering a possum which was masquerading as a rat at our home in Coconut Grove. Now it was a tortoise. So many questions.

How did it get there?

Why is there a tortoise in this apartment?

How the HELL did it get there?

Immediately I went upstairs and started calling everyone I could think of. I called my friend Talia who rescues dogs. No answer. I called 311, who asked me if the turtle was "vicious". Ummm. No.In that case, they would not come get him. I called a million animal rescues with specialties in exotics, none of whom work on Saturdays apparently. I called the ASCPA. I called Pet Smart, who did not know what to do with it. I called the guy who sometimes house sits for Khan, who keeps tarantulas as pets so I figured he might know what to do. Wrong. I asked my Facebook community and they all insisted he must belong to the home. 

Our landlady never, ever mentioned she had a pet ps. David was getting ready to adopt him or her. I began to think about life with a turtle/tortoise. How would Khan react? How would I tell him he'd no longer be the only pet in my life? How does one care for a guy or gal like this? And why did I feel so guilty that I really did not want to have him in my home? I love animals, but for some reason, this shelled creature was not one I could picture crawling around my apartment. But if he was a stray, of course we'd find a way to foster him, until we found him a proper, tortoise friendly home. David was feeling responsible for him somehow. I just wanted to know why and how.

And then David got in touch with someone (after I talked him out of releasing him into the wilds of Brooklyn) who said it's one of three scenarios:

1. The turtle belonged to the tenant.

2. The turtle belonged to the tenant and they lost it thus forgetting it was there.

3. Somebody put the turtle in the home on purpose.

It finally occurred to us to call our landlady's sister, who we send our rent check to. I was nervous to do that because A TURTLE IN THE HOUSE.

So David texted her asking if she knew anything about it and here's what she said:

"Oh yea. That's Bertram. He's lived there for 15 years. He lives under the radiator in the winter and comes out from time to time. And he's not a turtle. He's a tortoise".

BERTRAM. Could there be a better name for  a New York tortoise pet than Bertram?

Apparently he half hibernates in Winter so said landlady had no real reason to tell us of his existence. He doesn't really eat all winter, but how would we know that? Immediately I went out and bought him some organic butter lettuce to eat, which he devoured. David also fed him a house plant leaf because he was worried that he would starve to death. Then he worried he had poisoned him. OMG. The drama. Oh and the college grad what's app'd us from Thailand to tell us NOT to worry about him or even feed him.  Gone went the butter lettuce, even though he had eaten a bit of it. Maybe I need to hibernate for the winter. Excellent weight loss tactic.

Seriously though- who has a free roaming tortoise with the first name of an endocrinologist in their apartment (fun fact- Bertram was the name of my mother's long time endocrinologist)? And forgets to tell the people watching said apartment about him? Thus concluded the excitement for the afternoon. After what seemed like an eternity, we finally departed for our walk, relieved Bertram was not a homeless turtle that escaped from a local brownstone. A tortoise lives in Brooklyn. And he doesn't need our help. Only in New York, kids. Only in New York.

Cause that's what's up this wacky Monday in the 718. Yours, in hard shells and funny times. XO



On discernment and thinking it all through

Good afternoon, Friday and TGIbloodyF. It's been a long, cold week and looking forward to a chill weekend, including Super Bowl Sunday I suppose.

So sometimes I channel that aforementioned psychic/intuitive ability I mentioned the other day and then realize I want to share it will all of you. For instance, today I was watching CNN when they announced Cory Booker running for Prez in 2020. Admittedly, we've all been watching him for a minute and it's not a huge surprise. But damn if that field is not becoming overcrowded and hard to distinguish. And it just turned 2019.

Obviously we know this is a reaction to the polarization Trump has caused in this country. And everyone is ready to jump off the deep end. But a word came to me this morning and it's stuck with me all day. It whispered quietly in my brain as I watched the news and that word is/was "discernment".

Hmm. It's a popular word of late as we continue to explore mindfulness and intention and all of that fun stuff.  But truly, it's a perfect word for how I'm feeling. And I think I may smell a trend in the near future. Instead of too much we should probably go back to just enough. 

Take social media. Many people I know are opting out of Facebook and choosing to stay on Instagram and/or Twitter or whatever depending on what suits them. So instead of the constant bombardment of "like" culture, we are now choosing/discerning which networks are right for us, and which we can actually stand to look at.

Another reason discernment is top of mind is because I've been thinking a ton lately about finances and work and my relationship to both. As many of you know, I love stuff. But lately I've chosen to live with less, and buy a lot less of said stuff. Essentials only. Need vs. want. You name it. My shopping is becoming more discerning as I focus on building my writing business and simply because- I am so overstimulated when it comes to the constant barrage of "sale sale sale" and feed feed feed of clothes shoes whatever you want. Back in the day, people lived with less and it was way ok. Now because of fast fashion and our consumption addiction, we all have too much. And we buy too much. And as I get older, I want good things.  So because of that, it's all about less. And being mindful and discerning when it comes to what constitutes a true "must have".

And it's not surprising that this coordinates with the work I do- I'm trying to be more discerning about the work I take on, who with, and whether it's a step in the right direction, a means to an end, or just a whole lot of fun.  Kind of a quasi resolution of mine- choose wisely when it comes to work.  Oh and food. Of course, food. Just be more mindful of what I'm putting in my body in general.  It's really appearing (the d word) in every area of my life. So I need to trust it.

We are more than fortunate to have the choices we do. But when I look at things like a major election, it's hard to keep score. And as a nation,  I think we need to be alpha discerning when it comes to choosing our next President. So with everyone jumping in the pool, I can't help but worry about drowning. Drowning in options. Drowning in voices. And drowning in too much being, well, too damm much.

I'm not sure if any of you meditate-  I do on occasion but not nearly enough- but that word "discernment" is coming up for me hot and heavy as the work week comes to a close. How will you choose what to wear, what to do, and what to eat this weekend? You might want to give some of this stuff an extra think. Oh and that KKW lipstick the other day? I know. I don't need it. But being able to write about it was well worth it. 

Cause that's what's up this choosing wisely kind of Friday in the 718. Yours, in- you guessed it. Discernment. XO

Am I having an identity crisis?

Good morning, Thursday. Needless to say, STAY WARM. OMG.

So I love to hate the Kardashians but in the past year or so I've warmed to them. I know it's weird. But I have. Perhaps it's the fact that they're a bit more mature- somewhat less bratty and perhaps I just somehow appreciate their cheeky family values, however fake they may be. But I've prided myself on resisting any product offer they may have. From Kylie to Kim to Khloe and back again. That is, until last week.Gulp.

I happened across Kim's Instagram (wellI I follow her so...) where she posted the most gorgeous video of her having her new red lipstick applied. Her face- flawless. The red, called "Classic Red"- seemingly perfect. It's been a minute since I've bought a red lipstick and at under 20 bucks, I decided to give it a whirl. It's still not here yet but I bought it and then couldn't believe I did. Contributing to her success still makes me feel a little funny, and my beauty aesthetic is fairly far from Kim's so what was I doing? I know, I know. It's just lipstick. And a good red is a good red, regardless of who makes it. Plus it's almost Valentine's Day so a red lip feels, oh I don't know, so right now. That's smart marketing.

I'll wait and see how good it is when it arrives, and if you want to check it out, it's here. And I'm still me. I don't think I'm having an identity crisis but if I start getting major league hair extensions and wearing flesh colored bodysuits with leggings, send for help. 

Cause that's what's up this this seeing red of a Thursday in the 212. Yours, in makeup and reality superstars. XO

Maven recommends: Hilma af Klint at the Guggenheim will get you in your gut

Good morning, Wednesday. Still here in my gym clothes, writing from my sofa and working on a million things at once. I love it. I'm happy Thank goodness. I'm enjoying being a shut in so very much. At some point I may go nuts, but I'm LOVING it right now.

So something I've noticed in the past year or so is an interest in the occult or witchcraft or astrology, even. I noticed a ton of holiday gifts this year centered around astrology (good gifts for Leos, best colors for Cancerians, etc.) and I literally received three witchy kits as gifts which included a smudge stick, some Palo Santo, and things like feathers to help bring good vibes into the home. I'm wondering if it's because of who's in the White House and the whole me too movement right now- and if women in particular are feeling the need for protection and to get into their power as much as they possibly can. And we all know the phrase "witch hunt" has been trending since Trump has been tweeting it nonstop. Interesting that.

I've always been fascinated by the positive force of something otherworldly- and some of you may know I have my own psychic abilities when I'm tapped in to them. I suppose we all do, really. I have always felt that for me, organized religion was not really where I found spirituality, because my intuition is my spirituality. When I'm fully committed to it, it will never steer me wrong.  The force is strong within me. Ha. And I think that women are drawn to things like witchcraft and astrology because intuition is a major feminine trait. I'm not at all suggesting men don't have it- but most of the women I know are guided by intuition and when they trust it, there's no stopping them.

So this past weekend I saw a show at the Guggenheim which confirmed all that I thought about intuition as a spiritual guide. If you have not yet been to the Hilma af Klint show, you must, must go. Like, literally fly into New York and go see it if you don't live here. And if you live here, go now. Today if you can. It's the coolest show I've seen in years. Her use of the color pink alone just gets me in my feelings in the best of ways.

 Hilma was a Swedish artist who is often called the mother of abstract art. She was born in the 1862 and died in 1941. Her paintings were a visual representation of spiritual ideas and visions she had. A physical manifestation of the spiritual realm. And good Lord- they are magnificent. She was part of a group of five female artists called Da Fem (I need four more ladies to form a group with that name, which I absolutely love) who shared her ideals. These ladies often held seances and were deeply in touch with something otherworldly.  She created works for an imagined temple- that they should only be shown there- and not coincidentally, the temple itself resembled the Guggenheim, so a more perfect setting for her work would be hard to find.  She was not well known in her lifetime, and even caveated that her paintings could not be shown until 20 years after her death. The show also includes a ton of sketches and notebooks and is a fascinating revelation into the life of a pure creative soul, guided by something bigger than her. I'm in love.

So what does this teach us or what was my takeaway from the show? Recently I've been doing a ton of work on myself- working with a coach to help uncover what's next for me. Needless to say, I'm well aware that I find my way by figuring out what I don't want. The work I did with the coach was amazing, but the elaborate business plan we crafted did not fly with me at the end of the day. Because I know in my heart that all I truly want to be is a writer. My intuition has always led me there. In my 20s I was never, ever in touch with my intuition (murky times) so it makes sense I lost my way when it came to writing back then. I literally did not write a word for most of that time. Cut to many years later, and here I am. Tapped in to where I need to be. I do feel as women get older, we get far more in touch with our intuition, because so many other things go out of whack- our bodies change, our tastes change, the way we think of ourselves change. But our gut becomes like a beacon. And I for one am paying attention. 

So whether you are a churchgoer, temple dweller, or sonic twirler, listen to that inner guide. It won't fail you if you trust it. And go deep to get to it. Seeing Hilma's show, an artist who left this earth a long time ago, made me feel so very present. And as I write this on my sofa with candles lit around me, I'm right where I need to be. And that's the best I can do right now, or ever, really.

Cause that's what's up this in touch kind of Wednesday in the 718. Yours, in spiritual guidance and female intuition. XO